Soy un fotógrafo que vive en el centro. Cuando llegó la ventisca, supe que era mi oportunidad de documentar la historia.

I remember seeing the alert that a big blizzard was on the way, and I honestly thought we were done with storms this year. So instead of being annoyed, I got excited. 

In my head I was already thinking, “What if this turns into something bigger than the Blizzard of ‘78? That would be wild to witness.” 

Last year, when I was working at Rhode Island PBS as an arts and culture TV producer, I interviewed Michael Delaney, who, before he retired, ran the photography department at The Providence Journal. During that conversation, he pulled out photos, books, and old images from the paper’s collection, including photos of storms that shaped the city. I kept thinking about those photographers out there in the middle of it all, documenting history as it happened. When I heard this storm was coming, it hit me that I could do the same thing in my own way.

My mom, who lives in North Providence, yelled at me not to go out in the middle of the blizzard. So I listened and waited a few hours. But once I finally stepped outside – just before sunset on Monday, February 23 – you could feel it right away: this was history in the making. 

Downtown was completely covered. I live at the corner of Washington and Mathewson Streets, and the stoplight poles were frosted and covered in snow. There were no cars on the road which made it passable for walkers and skiers. 

I kept imagining the future, like what the next big flood marker might look like. Living downtown as a resident at AS220 makes moments like this feel even more personal, because I can actually step out the door and document the city while it transforms.

The Blizzard of 2026 was also the first time I flew my drone in about a year, and the footage came out epic. 

Being out there, watching Providence turn into something unreal, made me appreciate how important it is to capture what you can while it is happening. Because fifty years from now, somebody is going to look at those photos and clips and say, “Oh yeah, that was the Blizzard of 2026.”

And I got to be one of the people who recorded it.

David Lawlor is a Rhode Island–based filmmaker, photographer, and urban explorer who documents the hidden stories of New England’s industrial landscapes, historic architecture, and evolving cityscapes. Through cinematic visuals and on-the-ground storytelling, his work preserves overlooked places and connects past and present for a new generation.